


Roses Are Too Cliche

by SpiritsFlame



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-05
Updated: 2012-06-05
Packaged: 2017-11-06 21:53:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/423670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiritsFlame/pseuds/SpiritsFlame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel is a big fan of Valentine's Day, and an even bigger fan of Sam Winchester. Except that Sam Winchester is stubborn and completely resistant to being seduced. It's a problem. Luckily, Gabriel likes a challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roses Are Too Cliche

Technically speaking, Gabriel is a big fan of Valentine’s Day - chocolate everywhere, and a night practically set aside for sex. That’s the kind of vacation he can get behind. Humans, in their delightfully indulgent ingenuity, have only improved it in the last couple of years. It’s practically an old-fashioned pagan ritual. Only with less goats blood. 

He’d thought that this year would be the best yet. Apocalypse averted, world saved. It should be party time. This is one of the few times he actually prefers to wear a female shape, letting the boys buy him sugary sweet drinks and chocolate eclairs and enjoying the night like a true Pagan.

Except that this year, he’s stuck with the Winchesters. For two guys who just stopped the end of the world, they’re not the most fun to party with. 

Dean, at least, is more in line with Gabriel’s idea of a proper holiday- sex and food and what Dean calls ‘Lonely drifter Christmas’ which Gabriel feels he, as an archangel, should object to, but which he mostly just finds amusing. 

Dean talks about the approaching holiday with an almost childish glee, practically rubbing his hands together and acting, if you ask Gabriel, just a little too forced. 

Castiel, Gabriel’s poor, besotted little brother, only looks more miserably resigned, spending most of his time up in Heaven rather than the little house the Winchesters had bought after the Apocalypse. 

And Sam Winchester, who Gabriel can’t help but pay attention to, as much as he would like to flit away into his own private little sunset, doesn’t seem to have an opinion. Which, as far as Gabriel is concerned, is completely unacceptable.

Sam is stretched out on the couch when Gabriel appears in the living room, reading a book that, for once, has nothing to do with Hunting. 

This semi in-between state the Winchesters are operating in isn’t quite retirement, but it’s as close as they can get. The Apocalypse had ended almost a year ago and they’d gotten a house about half an hour from where Bobby lived. Dean worked at the local car shop and Sam had been talking about starting a bookstore. They went on Hunts on the weekend and if they weren’t doing anything else then Gabriel or Castiel joined them.

Whatever you want to call the nebulous state they’d been living in, it suited Sam. The almost permanent shadows under Sam’s eyes had all but disappeared, the tense set of his shoulders had relaxed and his jaw wasn’t always clenched with barely contained anger.

When Gabriel appears in the living room he is surprised that Sam just waves a half-hearted hand at him without looking up. He drops into a chair and it strikes him how comfortable he is here. More than he can remember being in Heaven. More than he can remember being in a long time. 

It’s disquieting and unfamiliar and it makes him want to shake things up. In some ways, it makes him want to leave. To run away again and never come back.

Then Sam looks up at him, a question in his brown eyes and a relaxed expression and Gabriel thinks maybe he can stay a little longer.

“You haven’t been around in awhile.” Sam comments.

Gabriel shrugs. “I’m a mobile kind of guy.”

“You have your own bedroom here, Gabe.” Sam says skeptically. It’s even true, technically speaking. The house they got had four bedrooms, one for each of them, for all that neither Castiel nor Gabriel slept. It was even full of many of the nick-knacks Gabriel had acquired over the years. He’d put red-silk sheets on a lavishly large bed, just to see the expression on Sam’s face.

“What’s Dean doing?” he asks. Sam smirks at him, unfooled. 

“Working on the Impala.” 

“Where’s Castiel?”

Sam’s smirk widens into a grin. “Watching Dean work on the Impala.”

Gabriel snorts out a laugh before he can stop it. “Seriously?”

“He says that he’s ‘providing assistance,’ but since he still can’t tell a socket wrench from a crescent wrench, I’m not putting any money on that.”

“I don’t think Deano minds too much,” Gabriel grins. 

“I doubt he’s getting much work done though.” 

“Too much eye-contact keeping him from actually looking at the car?”

They look at each other for a moment before they both burst into laughter, and Gabriel mimes wiping a tear away from his eye.

“You staying for dinner?” Sam asks, before his chuckles have quite stopped. He falls silent as soon as he’s said it, looking away like he regrets asking the question.

“And what gourmet cuisine will you be serving to the man who can make anything?”

Sam pauses like he’s actually thinking it over. “How about lasagna and beer?”

“Why Samuel Winchester, you sure know how to entice a man.” Gabriel jokes, pitching his voice higher and fluttering his eyelashes. 

Sam flushes and looks away again. “It’s my turn to cook tonight.”

“You two are so domestic it hurts sometimes. Please tell me there is pie for dessert.”

Sam shrugs. “Not tonight, but Dean is always better at that sort of thing. Cas made some mention of trying his hand at making some tomorrow.”

Gabriel makes a sarcastic cross over his chest. “That can only end in tears.”

“He seems pretty invested in the idea.” Sam sounds less amused than he should be, considering what happened last time Castiel had tried to bake (it had ended with a black kitchen and Castiel himself almost entirely white from flour). It only takes Gabriel a moment to work out why. 

“And this, of course, would have nothing to do with Valentine’s Day,” he hazards and Sam just grimaces at him. “Is Deano still making noise about his plans to hit up the bars for lonely, desperate woman?” 

Sam makes a disapproving noise and shifts to face Gabriel more directly. “I don’t think he means to be so-”

“Dickish?” Gabriel suggests. Sam gives him a flat look.

“Inconsiderate. He’s just a little-”

“Idiotic?”

“Oblivious.” Sam says pointedly. 

Gabriel shrugs. “Same difference. You got any plans for Valentine’s? Even a giant has to find love somewhere.”

Sam’s face closes off, and Gabriel hadn’t realized how open it was until then. “Not exactly my thing anymore.”

Gabriel is startled by the cold tone. “Oh, come on Sammy. Don’t be like that.”

“I tried the romance thing. It didn’t work.”

“I’m sure it’s not that-”

“Of the last three girls I slept with, all of them are dead, two of them I killed myself, one of which got me to start the Apocalypse.’

Gabriel closes his mouth with a click. Then, after a moment, “That’s rough, buddy.”

Sam stares at him and, unexpectedly, starts to laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”

Gabriel spreads his hands wide in a ‘who, me?’ sort of gesture. “I am who I am, Sammy-boy.”

Sam shakes his head. “Don’t call me that.”

“Don’t try to change me.”

Sam snorts again. “I’m going to go start dinner. You can stay if you want, but try not to give Dean a hard time.”

Yeah, that’s pretty much not going to happen. 

Gabriel watches Sam walk away then pops into the kitchen just before Sam reaches it. 

Sam doesn’t even look surprised to see him, just lifts an eyebrow and nudges Gabriel over on the counter and starts pulling out pans and ingredients.

“So, how long is this going to take?” Gabriel asks, swinging his legs. 

“A couple hours.” Gabriel wrinkles his nose in distaste and Sam grins at him. “That’s right, some of that messy human stuff. We can’t just snap things into place.”

“I know that.” Gabriel says loftily. He watches Sam line up the ingredients on the counter for a few minutes. Sam ignores him, except to nudge him closer and closer to the edge as he spreads out. “This is boring.” he complains after a moment.

“You can go.” Sam says pointedly. Then he grins wickedly. “I’m sure Dean and Cas would love some company.”

Gabriel gives him a withering look. “Pass. I’ll just be back for dinner.”

Sam’s gives him a look he can’t read, but all he says is “I’ll set a place for you.”

Gabriel pops out without saying goodbye - they’re not really his thing anyway.

Sam Winchester, he decides, seriously needs a Valentine. And Gabriel, well, he isn’t entirely indifferent towards the kid.

\--

Gabriel doesn’t like to do anything in a small way. If he’s going to woo someone, he’s damn well going to do it right. He’s not sure if it’s the angel in him, or just too many recreations of classic movies, but he a romantic at heart and it’s been a long time since he’d indulged in it - it hadn’t exactly been Kali’s thing. 

He’s not sure if he’s ever wooed someone like Sam Winchester before though. He suspects it won’t be easy, even with the casual friendship they’ve managed to build over the past year or so. In a way, that only makes him want to try harder.

\--

Sam has no idea what to do about Gabriel. The Archangel is entirely different from anyone he’s ever met and it’s difficult to get a handle on him.

He hadn’t expected Gabriel to join Team Free Will, especially considering the way they had parted after the TV incident. But when they’d been stuck, trapped at the hands of Pagan gods and unable to see a way out, it had been Gabriel who helped them, taking their blood from Kali and zapping all three of them and the Impala to a motel three states away. 

Somewhere along the way, Sam had grown fond of Gabriel. He couldn’t trace the how or why, but he’s found himself in a place where he feels comfortable around the Archangel - even enjoys his company.

But understanding Gabriel is difficult - fluid, changeable Gabriel. No, that’s wrong. Gabriel is consistent. Hard to grasp and elusive but a constant since he joined them. Sam just can’t understand him. He knows there is more to Gabriel than a smirk and a lollipop, but he can’t quite get a read on it. 

He wants to though. The more time passes, the more days go by with Gabriel dropping in the more Sam wants him to stay, wants to grab his arm and pull Gabriel down beside him, wants to try his hand at being the one to make Gabriel laugh for once.

Sam tries to put it out of his mind as he makes the lasagna, focusing just on the careful combination of ingredients and the now familiar feel of the house. Distantly he can hear the clink-clank of Dean working on the car and the steady murmur of his voice.

It’s comforting on a deep level - the knowledge that Dean is there, nearby and within hearing distance, both if he needs help or if Dean needs him. If he cranes his head, he can just see Dean through the window, only barely working on the car, his entire body turned to face Cas, his face open and bright. 

Sam shakes his head as he goes to put the lasagna in the oven. His brother is an idiot. A blind man could see how besotted Cas is, but Dean is so wrapped up in his own emotions and his hyper-masculine attempts to pretend he doesn’t have them that he can’t see the almost reverent way Cas looks at him.

It’s lonely, watching them; so caught up in each other while Sam can only stand on the sidelines and hope they get it together soon. He sets the timer for two hours and heads up to his room. He hardly wants to get caught up in his brother’s ridiculous courtship.

When he open the door to his bedroom, he has to stop and stare for a moment. It looks like there’s about 200 roses in his room, bouquets on every spare surface; his desk, his bed, his chair and a couple on the tops of the books on his bookshelves.

Sam closes his eyes for a moment in sheer exasperation. This could only be Gabriel’s doing, probably in response to their discussion on Valentine’s Day, because the fastest way to get Gabriel to do something is to tell him no.

He peers around the room, half expecting Gabriel to jump out at him. He doesn’t, and Sam lets himself relax slightly. The roses are pretty enough, though he thoroughly resents being cast in the role of the girl in Gabriel’s trick.

Sam let’s himself indulge, just for a second, in the thought that Gabriel is sincere, that this is more than Gabriel playing his jokes, toying with Sam as he so enjoys doing. He has a brief moment of panic when he thinks that maybe Gabriel has worked out Sam’s (stupid, insignificant, surely going to go away any day now) crush on him. 

He dismisses the idea. If Gabriel had even an inkling, he’d be having considerably more fun than a couple of roses - direct confrontation and face-to-face jokes. No, this particular cruelty is unintentional and Sam buries his nose into the nearest bouquet, inhaling the sickly-sweet smell. Then he sighs, opens his window and tosses them out into the yard below. 

It takes almost three trips to get all of them out, but the roses never prick him, even with more than two dozen at a time carried in his bare arms. 

He hesitates over the last bundle, checking again to make sure that Gabriel hasn’t appeared behind him, then takes out one of the roses and places it carefully on his bed. It can’t hurt to pretend, just a little. 

He throws the rest out the window and doesn’t check to see where they landed.

\--

Gabriel appears just as Sam is about to put the plates out. 

“Don’t forget one for me, Samalam.” Sam has to stifle a cry as he spins around to see Gabriel perched once more on the edge of the counter.

“Can’t you ever just enter the room like a normal person?” he snaps. 

Gabriel smirks at him. “Not on your life, gorgeous.”

Sam flushes, and turns away quickly to hide it. He’s no blushing virgin, so how is it that one comment from Gabriel can throw him so completely? “Don’t play with me, Gabriel,” he growls, not looking up as he carefully cuts the lasagna into edible pieces. 

When he finally looks up, Gabriel is watching him with an almost serious expression, but when he catches Sam’s eye he only grins. “Me? Play? Never!” He hops off the counter and takes the plates off of the counter, placing them on the table. “I’ve got this part, if you want to go get our errant brothers. If they can torn away from each other, that is.”

Sam smiles hesitantly and heads out to the front. To his surprise, Dean is rummaging in the hood, shoulders tense and Cas is nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Cas?”

Dean tenses even more, but doesn’t straighten from under the hood. “How should I know? I’m not his keeper.”

Sam raises his eyebrows. “Right.” It’s been awhile since he’s seen Dean like this, but then, it’s been awhile since he and Cas fought - if that’s even what happened. Sam doesn’t need to look too hard for a reason. He knows how Dean gets this time of year, and he has a pretty good idea of how Cas would take that. “Well, dinner’s ready.”

Dean finally straightens and his face is drawn, though he forces a smile. “What are we waiting for, then?” he asks, closing the hood and striding into the house without waiting for Sam.

Sam stares at nothing for a minute before he says to the empty air “You can join us, Cas. Dean’s just being an ass,” he grins and adds “And you don’t want to leave us alone with Gabriel, do you?”

He doesn’t wait for a reply before heading in, but Cas is waiting in the kitchen when Sam gets there, carefully not looking at Dean. When they move to the table, Dean rushes to get the seat next to Sam and Castiel carefully sits across from him.

Sam catches Gabriel’s eyes and rolls his own. Gabriel grins at him in a ‘what can you do’ kind of way. Dean grabs the lasagna as soon as it comes on the table, taking the biggest available piece and digging in without waiting for anyone else.

Sam kicks him under the table and Dean turns to look at him, eyes wide and mouth full. “Manners, Dean.” It’s a losing battle, but it won’t stop him from trying. Dean grumbles, but puts his fork down. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam can see Gabriel grinning and Cas looking vaguely amused. 

Sam takes his own piece and passes it to Cas. As usual, Cas looks hesitant. “I do not require -”

“Just take the freaking food, Cas.” Dean snaps.

Cas stiffens slightly, but he takes a small piece of lasagna and puts it onto his plate. Sam nudges Dean lightly with his foot, but Dean doesn’t look at him. He keeps staring at Cas until Cas takes a hesitant bite and then looks to Sam. “It is delicious, Sam. Thank you.”

Dean nods in a self-satisfied way. “There you go, Cas. Do we have to go through this every time you stay for dinner? We want you to eat. We want you to stay.”

They stare at each other long enough that Sam, who is used to this by now, starts to feel uncomfortable. Gabriel claps his hands together. “Well, not that I don’t like dinner and a show, but I really want some of my food! Bro, if you would?” 

He gestures at the lasagna that Cas is still clutching tightly. Cas flushes and hands it over. Gabriel scoops a large piece onto his plate and takes a large bite, making obscene noises as he chews “This is amazing.”

Sam makes a concentrated effort to tear his gaze away from Gabriel trying to lick the gooey cheese off of his fork.

He’s just starting to think that maybe they can have a normal conversation when Castiel reaches into his pocket. “I found this for you,” and then he hands Dean a rose.

Dean’s face is priceless. His entire body just freezes, eyes going wide. “I - Cas. What?!”

“I found it.”  
“No, I got that part. Why are you giving it to me?”

Cas hesitates, and shoots a look at Gabriel, who gives him an encouraging thumbs up. “I thought you might like it?” 

Dean opens his mouth and closes it again. Sam can actually see him trying to bite back a harsh retort. He obviously doesn’t want to hurt Cas’s feelings, especially after whatever happened this afternoon.

“Where did you find it?” he asked finally. 

“There was a large pile along the side of your house.” Cas replies matter-of-factly. Dean gapes at him. 

“There was a pile of roses in the backyard?” Dean repeats.

“Yes, Dean.”

“Did you put it there?”

“No. I simply found it.” 

Sam stares very hard at his plate and hopes no one asks about it.

No such luck.

“Why the hell is there a pile of roses in the backyard?” Dean demands, and out of the corner of his eye Sam can see him make an aborted move like he’s about to go check for himself. Sam grabs at him without thinking. 

“Don’t worry about it, Dean.”

“But I don’t -” 

“It was me, Dean-o. It seems that Samich here doesn’t like his Valentine.”

Sam snorts derisively before he can stop himself.

"What?" Gabriel asks, but Sam just shakes his head.

"I think I'm done," he says, pushing back from the table. He isn't in the mood to play Gabriel's games right now, not right after seeing Castiel's honest, open presentation of his gift.

"I do not understand what is happening." He hears Cas say as he puts his dishes in the dishwasher, but he doesn't turn around. 

To his dismay, Gabriel is on his bed when he gets up there. With chocolate. 

"Be my Valentine?" Gabriel asks with a broad grin, holding out the box of chocolates and acting like it's not open, half the chocolates already gone.

"Gabriel, don't do this."

"Don't what?" Gabriel asks, voice softening, grin fading. He looks serious, like he actually cares and Sam can't do this right now.

"Don't fuck with me!" He says furiously and Gabriel actually looks surprised.

"Sammy- I don't think we're on the same page here." Gabriel says, coming to stand beside him.

"I'm fine with your tricks, really I am." Sam sighs, running a hand through his hair. "But not this one. Ok?"

"Sam -" Gabriel starts. 

"Just, go?" Sam asks, not looking at him.

He hears the sound of wingbeats and a rush of cold air at his side, and Gabriel is gone. 

\--

Sam Winchester is a mystery that Gabriel cannot solve. Normally, this would be delightful, a constant surprise to someone who’s spent centuries learning how humans work. Today, it is infuriating. He’d thought of his flirting with Sam as something harmless, something wonderfully full of potential and fun.

It’s clear that Sam, poor, broken Sam, sees it as something else. He wonders if Sam is even capable of separating love and pain anymore. But then again, Gabriel isn’t the poster-boy for healthy relationships himself. 

It should have occurred to him that Sam would see it as some kind of joke - especially when he considered that Sam’s last anything had been with Ruby, which, well, spoke for itself. Both the Winchesters were the type of look for double meanings and ulterior motives in everything they saw - it had been what kept them alive, relatively speaking, for so long.

Now the issue was how to convince Sam that he was serious. Or, at least, serious about Sam. 

He watches Sam for a moment, not wanting to leave just yet. Sam drops down onto his bed and, to Gabriel’s surprise, pulls out one of the roses that Gabriel had given him. Sam looks at it for a long minute, sighs and lets it drop onto the bed beside him. 

Well, it seems that Sam isn’t entirely indifferent to him. That is . . . comforting.

\--

Gabriel isn’t surprised when the smell of breakfast draws Dean downstairs first. Dean takes a plate and loads it with bacon and pancakes, drenches the entire thing with syrup and sits down without even looking at Gabriel.

It isn’t until Gabriel, feeling uncharacteristically generous towards Dean, puts a full cup of coffee in front of him that Dean even acknowledges his presence.

Dean stares up at him with a suspicious look. “You’ve stuck around here for a long time.” He says it casually, cutting into his pancakes like he’s indifferent, but his eyes are hard.

“Yep,” Gabriel answers, heading back to the stove to start a new batch of pancakes. He could just snap some more up, but he thinks that Sam will somehow appreciate this more. Sometimes he just doesn’t understand humans. 

“Why?”

“I like you two chuckleheads. Can’t imagine why.”

“Are you messing with Sam?” Dean asks coldly. And here they’ve reached the crux of the matter.

Gabriel turns around to face Dean so that the hunter can see his face. “No. Well, not this time. Not like this.” If he can’t convince Dean, can’t get Sam’s brother to at least not oppose him on this, he has no chance with Sam. 

Dean holds his gaze for a long moment, chewing slowly “Sam thinks you are.”

"I know," Gabriel says slowly, turning back to the stove and neatly flipping the new pancakes.

"Good luck," Dean says, startling Gabriel so much he almost fumbles the flip, only barely managing to catch it inside the skillet. Then, out of nowhere, Dean is behind him, grabbing his arm in a hold that would hurt if Gabriel were human. Gabriel lets him, because it this is what Dean needs to give his blessing, than he can do that.

"If you're just messing with my little brother, if he comes out of this worse than when he started, I will end you." 

And okay, there's no way that Gabriel can miss a set-up like that. He turns to face Dean, smirking. "Shouldn't I be saying the same to you?" 

Dean drops his arm and steps back so fast it should be funny and Gabriel takes the time to slide the pancakes off the skillet then turns to face him, a smirk stretching across his face. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Dean snaps. 

Gabriel gives Dean his best condecending look. “Oh, come on, Deano!” He says in exhasperation. “Do you think we’re all blind? I see the way you look at Castiel.”

“I don’t - shut up!”

“Get with the program!” Gabriel snaps, because not alienating Dean is important, but he has his own brother to look out for. 

“It’s not -” Dean stutters, thrown off and uncertain. “Cas doesn’t -”

Ah. Well, that might be more to the point, though Gabriel can’t understand how Dean can’t see the way Cas looks at him. Sometimes he can’t believe to dense these two are.

He’s about to say something to that effect when he hears Sam’s lumbering footsteps on the stairs and cuts himself off. Sam enters, looking rumpled and relaxed in low-slung sweatpants and an old Stanford shirt that stretches too tight across his broad chest.

The jolt of affection that goes through Gabriel startles him. He knows Sam well enough by now that Sam only walks like this, slow and heavy, when he is completely relaxed and comfortable. Despite his size, Sam can be almost eerily quiet whenever he thinks there might be need. Whenever he does otherwise is an act of trust. 

It makes Gabriel want to take Sam away and put him somewhere he can always be safe and relaxed, to wrap Sam in his wings and make sure no mortal weapons can ever hurt him. 

He turns back to the stove so his face won’t give him away, but he catches Dean’s eye as he turns and Dean’s face is open and startled. Gabriel winks at him because he can think of nothing else to do and Dean’s expression slips away, leaving a contemplative look that Gabriel can’t interpret.

“Pancakes?” Gabriel offers, still facing the stove. 

“Um. Sure?” Sam says hesitantly, and out of the corner of his eye Gabriel can see Sam shoot Dean a look. He doesn’t see Dean’s response, but Sam takes the plate offered to him and snorts a laugh. 

Bacon, eggs and whipped cream make a smiley face on the pancakes with comically large eyebrows and an absurd looking moustache.

“It’s happy to see you!” Gabriel grins when Sam gives him an incredulous look. 

“Uh-huh.” Sam says skeptically, but he moves to sit down without further comment. Dean pauses only to take the rest of the bacon before sitting across from him. Gabriel takes two pancakes, drenches them in syrup and covers the entire thing in whipped cream before sitting down next to Sam.

“Only 6 more hours before I hit the bars. First Valentine’s Day after the end of the world? This is not an opportunity I’m going to miss!” Dean says, stretching broadly.

Sam makes a disapproving noise into his pancakes and Dean scowls at him.

“What?” Dean snaps, losing his air of lazy confidence.

“Nothing. No comment.”

“No, please, Sam. Share your grand college wisdom with me. You’ve been wanting to say something for days.”

Sam put his silverware down. “You really want to know what I’m thinking?”

“Yeah, actually.”

“Alright, fine. I think you’re being a cowardly asshole.”

Dean gapes at him. “Excuse me?”

“You keep bragging about your Great Valentine’s Day plans. Especially in front of Cas. And you know what I think? I don’t even think you want to go out. I think if you do, you’ll just sit and sulk at the bars all night because you don’t want your stupid Lonely Drifter Christmas. What you really want if for Cas to say something, for him to stop you. And the more he doesn’t, the more you push him.” 

Dean stares at him and Gabriel can see the storm building behind his eyes, can tell that this accusation, this too-direct hit is not going to go unanswered. “And what about you, huh?” Dean retorts, and Sam tilts his head like he’s inviting whatever Dean could say to him, as though he thinks that Dean has nothing on him. But Gabriel can see the smirk building at the corner of Dean’s lips and he can tell this isn’t going to go well.

“You think I can’t see the way you stock up on sweets for Gabriel or how you sulk like a goddamn teenage girl when he doesn’t come around?” 

Ok, so Gabriel should definitely not be hearing this, but he can’t bring himself to leave. Sam can’t even look at him, face a vivid red and hands clenched and Dean is still talking.

“And you make way too much of dinner because you hope that will make Gabriel stay, but whenever he actually tries to make a move on you, you clam up like a virgin on prom night. You could have gotten laid months ago if you weren’t such a goddamn pussy.”

“Maybe it’s not all about getting laid, Dean.’ Sam snaps, then immediately looks furious at himself, shooting an embarrassed and almost guilty look at Gabriel, who can only stare back at him with wide eyes. Sam makes a strangled noise and and pushes himself back from the table. 

\--

Sam doesn’t want to call it hiding, but he stays in his room for the rest of the day. Neither Dean nor Gabriel come after him and he tells himself he doesn’t care.

A noise in the yard startles him around two and he peers out of this window to see Castiel staring down at the large pile of roses that have yet to disappear. He crouches down to rummage through the pile, moving aside the weather-worn flowers on the top of find the brighter ones in the center.

Sam opens his window to call down but stops. Dean approaches him, catching Cas’s arm when Cas turns to look at him and pulling him up. Sam quickly pulls his head inside, hoping that they hadn’t seen him.

“What are you doing, Cas?” Dean asks, and through the open window his voice is loud and clear.

“I am looking for another rose. The last one was ineffective.” 

Dean sighs and Sam can picture the expression on his face, exasperation and fond amusement. “Yeah? And what were you trying to get it to do?”

“It is not important,” Cas hesitates and Sam only barely resists the urge to look down at them again. “Do you plan to leave soon?”

“For the bars?” Dean asks, and Sam can hear that infuriating prodding, that edge that had been so annoying for the past week, in his tone.

“So you have said,” Cas replies, and it’s seriously baffling to Sam how Dean can not hear how depressed he sounds at the concept. 

“Probably.”

“Don’t go,” Cas blurts out. 

Dean doesn’t reply and Sam can just picture his brother, frozen and unmoving with hope and the sudden prospect that he may actually have to deal with his emotions. It makes Sam want to grin.

Then he hears rustling, one of them moving and Dean says “Why not?” almost too quietly for Sam to hear.

He risks a peak down and sees that Dean has crowded up against Cas, an amusing echo of the way Cas always moves just a little too close. 

“Because I do not want you to,” Cas admits, as if the words are difficult for him.

From his awkward vantage point, Sam can see that Dean has pressed even closer, so that they have to be sharing breath. “Why?” It’s so quiet that Sam can hardly hear it, even with his ears strained towards the sound. 

Cas makes a frustrated, desperate sound and grabs the open section of Dean’s shirt and tugs him into a fierce looking kiss. Sam’s eyebrows shoot up into his hair line because he had not expected that, not expected it to be Cas who would make the first move. 

Dean makes a startled noise, then his hands fall to Cas’ waist and he pushes in, pressing Cas against the wall.Sam decides that is quite enough of that and pulls his head back inside, closing the window firmly.

\--

“About time,” comes Gabriel’s voice. Sam spins around to see him peering down at their brothers with a pleased little smile. “I have to say, Sammich, you do get results.”

“It wasn’t exactly intentional.”

“Meh.” Gabriel shrugs. “Result are results.”

Sam leans against the wall, staring down at him. “Why are you here?”

“Why am I ever anywhere? Because I want to be.” 

“I would have thought that, after this morning, you would have been as far from here as you could get,” Sam says dryly, looking out the window, over the tree, careful not to look down. 

“What, that you said you wanted more than sex?” Gabriel asks, pitching his voice deliberately casual and watching as Sam flinches, cheeks going red. “Oh, Sammy.” Gabriel sighs, moving close enough that Sam has to look at him. “Did it ever occur to you that that isn’t a one-sided thing?”

He can see the moment his words pass the solid brick wall that Sam has built up against any of Gabriel’s carefully planned seductions - Sam’s gaze jerks to meet his, hazel eyes wide and disbelieving. Gabriel smirks into Sam’s surprise. “What, you think I hung around you two yahoos for my health? Hardly.”

“Why, then?” Sam asks, which shouldn’t surprise Gabriel but does. Someday, surely, Sam will stop surprising him.

Gabriel shakes his head. “Because I like you, Sam Winchester.”

Sam ducks his head, but Gabriel can see a pleased little smile on his face. It makes him happy in a horrible, goopy way that he’ll never admit to.

“So, you’re not just fucking with me?” Sam asks, and even though his tone is light and teasing, Gabriel can hear the intent behind his words and for a moment he hates the world that made Sam doubt himself so much.

“Well. . .” he smirks, secretly thrilled when Sam rolls his eyes and grins, nudging one broad shoulder into Gabriel’s and staying there, deep into Gabriel’s space. Gabriel turns his head to look Sam directly in the eyes. “Yes, Sam. Completely serious. You and me. Let’s do this thing - height difference and all.”

Sam is still grinning when he bends down to kiss him, and Gabriel counts that as a win.The kiss is hesitant and slow, like Sam is still expecting Gabriel to pull back. Which is not ok. Gabriel pushes Sam back against the wall and presses against him. 

If Sam wants slow, then he can have it, but Gabriel is not going to put up with any sort of hesitancy. He licks his way into Sam’s mouth, tangling the tongues together in a slow, filthy slide. 

It’s spine-meltingly good and Gabriel presses even closer, shivering when Sam growls as his arousal presses against Gabriel’s stomach. Gabriel can feel as it as a searing heat and it makes him flush with want. 

Gabriel wraps a leg around Sam’s waist and they both groan into the kiss when it brings their groins into sharp contact. Sam’s hands, huge and searing hot, fall to rest on Gabriel’s ass and jerk him closer, sending sparks across his vision.

Gabriel uses his other leg to push off of the ground and Sam catches his weight as Gabriel settles himself firmly on Sam’s waist. Sam’s hands clench reflexively and Gabriel thrusts in reaction, his new angle causing his arousal to press against the hard planes of Sam’s stomach.

Sam pulls away from the kiss, gasping for breath. “Bed.” he growls. 

“Ooooh, Sammy!” Gabriel says coquettishly, but the effect is ruined when Sam takes a step, the shift of his legs under Gabriel’s perch causing them to move together in all sorts of interesting ways.

Sam practically drops him onto the bed and Gabriel settles back onto his elbows to peer up at him. Sam’s chest is heaving, his face flushed with arousal. His lips are red and swollen from their kiss and his cock is straining against the fabric of his jeans. Gabriel can’t remember ever wanting someone more.

“Come on, take me, you big stud.” Gabriel smirks. 

Sam laughs, clambering up onto the bed and lying down beside him. “You are insufferable.” He wraps one muscled arm around Gabriel’s waist and tugs, pulling Gabriel on top of him.

“You love it.” Gabriel replies, grinning. 

Sam’s face sobers, and he leans up to steal a quick kiss. “Maybe a bit.” he admits. He covers Gabriel’s mouth with his own before Gabriel can respond.

Sam is hard against him, in all the best ways. He can feel the rock solid lines of Sam’s body pressed against him, while Sam’s arousal is a steady weight against his thigh. He shifts so that his thigh is wedged firmly between Sam’s and Sam gives a little growl and bites at his lip.

“Gabriel.” Sam gasps out when Gabriel rocks against him in response.

It strikes him like a bolt why this is a bad idea and he pulls away, regretting it immediately as Sam makes a little whimper and chases after him for a moment before settling into the sheets again.

“We can’t do this,” he says, voice still husky with desire. 

“Why not?” Sam demands, his voice pitched deeper in a way that makes Gabriel want to throw his stupid scruples out the window and never let Sam get out of bed again.

“You still don’t trust me.” He replies, dipping down to press a soft kiss to Sam’s lips. “If you think this is all about sex, having sex is not the best way to prove otherwise. Duh.”

Sam gapes at him. “That’s ridiculous!” He protests, sounding utterly indignant.

“No, it’s not,” Gabriel shoots back, feeling petulant and upset. He wants Sam, wants him badly, but if waiting a little longer is what it takes to keep him, than that’s what he’ll do. He makes a move to get off of Sam. 

Sam grips his shoulders tightly and flips them before Gabriel is quite sure what happened. Sam smirks down at him. “All you have to do, Gabriel, is stay,” he whispers.

“I think I can manage that.” he says, too taken aback to be flippant.

“Good. Problem solved. Can we have sex now?” Sam asks, startling a laugh out of Gabriel. 

“Well, when you put it that way,” He replies, lifting one hand to snap.

Sam gasps at the sudden sensation of skin on skin. 

“Come on, big man,” Gabriel smirks at him, wriggling under Sam in a move that makes Sam’s eyes go molten. 

“I need something to -” Sam says, making a move like he’s actually going to get up, which is absolutely not okay. Gabriel grips his arm tightly, not letting him move.

“You don’t need that.” He grips Sam’s cock, which is just ridiculous , and yeah, he kind of needs that inside him right now. He positions it between his legs, bright eyes fixed on Sam’s. Sam’s can’t get any darker, already blown as wide as they can get naturally, but something in them feels like it’s going to burn Gabriel in all the best ways.

“Really?” Sam gaps, sounding absolutely wrecked.

“Hello! Archangel!” Gabriel says archly. Or he tries to - it gets cut off into a broken moan as Sam pushes two fingers in carefully.

“I told you-”

“I had to check.” Sam pants out, stretching his fingers apart, eyes blown wide as they meet Gabriel’s. “You’re already-”

“Slick? Yes!” Gabriel gasps, pushing back down on Sam’s fingers because if that’s all he can get at the moment, Sam could at least do him the courtesy of giving it to him. “Those are the perks- ah- of fucking-” Sam makes a choked off groan at the word that makes Gabriel twist to get his mouth somewhere on Sam, just to hear it again “an archangel!” Gabriel finishes against Sam’s ear, mouthing at the sensitive just beneath it.

Sam makes another harsh noise and pulls his fingers out. Gabriel bites down in retaliation. Then Sam is lifting Gabriel’s hips with one hand - one hand, fuck that’s hot- and lining himself up before he pushes in. 

Gabriel sucks in a breath he doesn’t need and arches up to meet Sam’s thrust. Sam makes a deep, greedy noise and his hips jerk. Gabriel was right - Sam is huge and hot, burning into Gabriel like he’ll be in there forever and it’s wonderful.

Except, Sam’s thrusts are measured and careful, too cautious. When Gabriel looks at Sam’s face, his lips are tight with the effort of going slow.

Gabriel clenches tightly around Sam, who makes a desperate noise and his eyes fly open to meet Gabriel’s. 

“I’m yours, Winchester,” he hisses into Sam’s ear. “So fucking take me.”

Sam groans and finally, finally, let’s go. Gabriel spreads his legs further, making Sam sink in deeper, then wraps his legs around Sam’s waist, tugging him in.

Sam throws his head back and curses and Gabriel takes the opportunity to lean forward and bite his mark into Sam’s collar. 

Sam makes a noise like he’s dying and jerks in Gabriel’s arms as though a live wire went through him. Gabriel drops his right hand to Sam’s hip to steady him and pull him tighter in. His other hand goes into Sam’s hair, tugging him into a kiss that is more breath and passion than actual technique.

Every thrust is driving sparks deep into Gabriel’s body, his very grace and it’s getting harder and harder to hold onto his form. He hasn’t felt this out of control in years, and when Sam drops his head to Gabriel’s neck to leave a mark of his own, Gabriel loses it.

“Shut your eyes.” He pants, and Sam’s gaze jerks up to him, wide and shocked. “Shut your eyes!” Gabriel demands, slapping his left hand over Sam’s eyes. His right hand is still a heavy brand on Sam’s hip and he can feel his grace flaring out, before the world whites out for a moment. 

He can hear the walls creaking, can feel Sam coming apart over him, guttural noises and intonations of Gabriel’s name like a prayer, but all Gabriel can focus on his making sure his power and pleasure doesn't take out the house.

When he comes back to himself, Sam is slumped against him, head pillowed on Gabriel’s chest, sleeping deeply. Gabriel smiles, brushing Sam’s ridiculous hair out of his eyes.

When he lifts his hand from Sam’s hip, the mark of it is seared like a brand, freshly healed and pink. It makes Sam his, claims his irrevocably as Gabriel’s. Good. Perfect.

Smiling smugly, Gabriel settles into a night of watching over his stubborn human.

\--

They’re all woken up the next morning when an overly enthusiastic Cas, in a fit of joy, attempts to make Dean breakfast and sets off every smoke alarm in the house.

Gabriel’s in too good of a mood to even pretend to be annoyed. It helps that Sam rushes down to the kitchen in just his sweatpants, Gabriel’s claim just visible over the waistband. The expression on Dean’s face will keep Gabriel in a good mood for the rest of the month. Well, among other things. 

 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> So, remember that time when I wrote a Valentine's Day fic in February, and spent so much time editing it that I missed the date. Yeah, whoops. Anyway, this is that fic.
> 
> So much thanks to my beta, purple_spock, who I contacted last minute and who still got it back to me before Valentine's Day.


End file.
